Broken Chlex Rated MA
by MusicWhispers
Summary: Chlex & Bruce Wayne. Chloe lives in Gotham, Lex owns the paper, and Bruce is intrigued by Chloe. But dark times lay ahead for our intrepid reporter. Who will be the one to pull her out of oblivion? And who put her there in the first place? Rated MA f
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Chloe hurried down the busy sidewalk, neatly pushing her way through the wave of humanity. She smiled as she shoved passed bodies, said a quick "Excuse me" when she thought of it. All she got were the usual grunts of acknowledgement, or the occasional "Watch it!". Most, though, didn't pay much attention to the blond woman in the red wool coat. After all, this was Gotham City, and Chloe knew the citizens were used to worse abuse.

Clutching the small notebook in her pocket, she held onto her red cap and plowed on, her gaze now on her destination: the steps of Wayne Tower, headquarters of Wayne Enterprises. Even from this far away the gothic looking structure was intimidating, with its dingy, thick stonework and medieval design. Well, she reasoned as she rushed across the street, she'd certainly dealt with worse situations. Like the time she was almost burned to death, ironically enough in the Torch offices. Or the time she almost became human food for one of the cutest guys in school. Or when she nearly froze to death after following Clark to the ass end of nowhere. Or when she and Clark had finally confronted Lex Luthor, trying to convince his drugged and brainwashed mind that his father had been controlling him again…

_iChloe watched, horrified, as Lex grabbed Clark by the shirt front and jerked him nose to nose. _

"_You've been trying to kill me since day one, Kent," he panted. "I couldn't decide if you'd somehow saved me, or if you'd been working with someone else to see me dead. I was a fool to even think you were innocent for even a second."_

"_No, Lex, it's not like that," Clark said, his voice oddly calm._

"_Then what's it like? Hum? Tell me I'm just imagining things! Tell me I'm going crazy again! But didn't you just sneak up behind me and try to attack me?"_

_Chloe took a tentative step forward, stopping just beside the two men. "Lex, stop it. We weren't trying to hurt you."_

"_I might believe you, Miss Sullivan, but your friend here has a…track record." He tightened his hold on Clark and she watched as his blue eyes became cold ice shards. "How were you going to do it, Kent? Quick and easy, or slow and messy?"_

_The image of Lex Luthor lying on the ground surrounded by his own blood sent a shock wave of despair through her. At that moment she knew she'd carry the horrifying picture to her grave, even if it were only an imagined scene. Quickly, she insinuated herself between Lex and Clark, ignoring the pain of his tight arms pressed against her shoulder._

"_Lex, stop it!" She stared at him in what she prayed was a stern look. "Stop it right now!"_

_His gaze didn't waver from the man he held hostage. "I would move if I were you, Chloe."_

_This time she shoved at his chest, knowing she wouldn't throw him off balance, but hoping her move would rattle him. "Damn it, Lex, I mean it! Clark didn't come here to hurt you! If he did, why would he bring me along?"_

_His eyes flickered for a moment, then landed squarely on her. "You…you would…?"_

"_No, I wouldn't!" she snapped. "Try to think, Lex; be logical. Why would we come here, in the middle of the day, walk through the front door and pass all those video cameras, if we had some plot to kill you?"_

_Lex hesitated, his grip loosening a fraction on Clark's checkered shirt. She only prayed the man behind her wouldn't do anything rash, like jerk away. Lex was balancing on a precarious edge right now, and almost anything could shove him over. Licking her dry lips, Chloe reached up to cradle the older man's face in her palms._

"_Please, Lex, please, think. You trusted me once, trusted me enough to put your father behind bars. Trust me right now, I'm begging you."_

_He blinked several times, as if he were trying to clear the fog from his eyes. Chloe saw her advantage and she pushed at the edges._

"_This isn't you, Lex; the way you've been acting, the things you've done…it's not you. This is…this is your father."_

_His hands dropped to his sides as his face crumbled for one heart wrenching moment. She felt a nearly excruciating bolt of sadness race through her and tried her best not to let it show. The last thing he would want was pity._

"_My…my father," he rasped, his gaze still on her._

"_Lex, he's wired your bedroom, and in here. He's been sending out some sort of subliminal messages to you, playing you, getting you to do the things he knows he can't. Your food…Clark got a sample and I took it to a lab. It's been laced with psychotropic drugs."_

_He moved away from them then, going to stand in front of the stained fireplace. He bowed his head, reached out with his hand to the mantle, and slowly closed his eyes._

"_My father…son of a bitch." What should have been a curse came out on a short, mirthless laugh. "He found a way; by God he found a way, didn't he?"_

_Slowly, she stepped up to him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lex; I'm so sorry."  
_

_She was surprised when his hand shot up to cover hers, more surprised when he held onto her as if she were his only life line._

"_We're going to help you Lex," Clark said as he eased up behind her. "We'll be here for you, I promise."_

"_A quick detox," Lex whispered harshly. "I want a quick detox."_

_Chloe did her best to stifle her gasp. "But…they'll have to induce a coma. They'll have to rush your body…Lex, it's dangerous. You could die."_

_His head turned slowly, his dull blue eyes meeting hers. "There are worse things than dieing, Chloe. You should know that."/i_

An elbow in her back brought Chloe back to reality.

"Sorry," came the muffled voice.

In true Gotham City fashion, Chloe grunted in reply. She took a moment to recollect her thoughts, tightening her grip on the pen and notebook to ground her back in the here and now. The scene with Lex had been almost two years ago, but every time she thought of that day, and of the weeks that had followed, it still felt as raw as a fresh wound. Seeing the man she'd always considered nearly indestructible lying on a thin hospital bed, wires and tubes running from his body, was a bit like seeing a superhero fall from the sky. She'd stayed with him, just like she'd promised, and she'd gone to visit him every chance she'd had when he'd been deprogramming. After all, he'd saved her life and her father's; he'd forgiven her for her brief entanglement with Lionel. She owed him, and not just because he'd done so much for her and her friends. Lex had become part of her personal circle, a man that she'd grown to admire even more after seeing his fragility.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're ready to begin."

Chloe shook her head to clear her thoughts and focused on the smoky female voice. She lifted her eyebrow when she saw the woman who'd spoken. She wasn't surprised to see that the female standing behind the bank of microphones matched the voice. Tall, red headed, and slender, she was swathed in a long gray coat that probably cost as much as Chloe made in a year. She looked comfortable and competent, as if she spoke in front of crowds several times a day.

"Mr. Wayne will make his announcement and answer a few of your questions. This conference will be brief."

Chloe set her shoulders and pulled out her trusty pen and notebook. Flipping to a crisp, blank page, she clicked the top of her pen and waited impatiently. She was rewarded a moment later when a tall, broad figure pushed through the thick glass door of the Wayne building. She gave herself one purely female moment to appreciate Bruce Wayne as a man. He was, as she'd always guessed, the perfect male specimen, even in person. His dark hair was stylishly tousled, his face harshly honed, and his build a heady dream in his hand cut, black suit and matching coat. He would, she guessed, block out the light in a doorway much like an eclipse. The reporters around her settled into an excited silence as Bruce Wayne took his position behind the microphones.

"Hello and thank you all for coming." Just like the woman, Mr. Wayne's voice matched his face and body; deep, slightly dangerous, with just an edge of a rasp. He gave the small crowd a killer smile that had Chloe's heart doing a small jerk. "As most of you know, Wayne Enterprises' pharmaceutical division has been focusing on a new treatment for children with Type 1 Diabetes. We are proud to announce that, in the past year, we have discovered a new medicinal treatment that will reduce the number of injections a child must take. While this isn't a cure, we are extremely pleased that this tri-weekly treatment, taken in pill form, has shown great promise in helping the body maintain insulin levels. Wayne Enterprises received the go ahead yesterday from the FDA to begin producing Insozine to sell on the U.S. market."

Chloe was jostled as the people around her began to murmur in ecstatic tones. As far as an announcement, this one was definitely a doozey. It could be a hell of a story if handled the right way. And she planned on handling it perfectly.

"I'll take questions now," Mr. Wayne announced.

She waited patiently, bided her time as the other reporters held up their hands and volleyed for attention. She listened and took notes as he answered pertinent, and not so pertinent, questions. Really, who cared if he'd been seen twice with some tall, leggy supermodel? Some people just couldn't keep their priorities straight she supposed, even in the journalist society.

Finally, when it looked like he was about to wrap up the short press conference, she stood on her toes and waved her hand, hoping he would see her in the back. Of course, it helped that the rest of the reporters had already worn themselves out shooting out questions. She smiled with satisfaction when his dark blue gaze landed on her, chalking up the sudden jarring of her heart to the excitement of the story.

"Yes, miss?"

"Mr. Wayne, will this drug be available to all the children who will need it?"

He paused for a moment, and she could have sworn she saw a quick flash of a grin. "To whom are you referring, Ms…?"

"I was referring to low income families, Mr. Wayne. Will their children have the same opportunity to receive Insozine as, say, the upper class children?"

She could feel the wide eyed stares of the people around her but ignored them. She was wholly focused on the dark haired man behind the microphones, waiting for an answer with her pencil poised over her notebook.

He cocked his head slightly and gave her his undivided attention. "I can assure you that Wayne Enterprises has already set up a trust for needy families who need Insozine. We have already contacted most of the free clinics in Gotham in regards to carrying this medicine. No child will have to go without this drug."

She lifted an eyebrow, impressed that someone with more money than Bill Gates and Luthor Corp. combined had thought of the kids on the other side of the tracks. Sadly, it wasn't often that she saw generosity towards the people who needed it the most.

"That's all for now," Mr. Wayne said, then moved purposefully away.

The woman who had initially addressed them came back to shoo them away with a gracious smile and a firm voice. Chloe didn't mind, she had what she needed. Carefully picking her way through the retreating group, she made her way to a hard wooden bench and slid down. Wrinkling her brow, she studied the notes she had taken, grimacing at the bad penmanship and wide strokes her gloves had forced her to.

She had been thinking about angling the story towards a more 'haves and have nots' feel, but after the surprising revelation that Wayne Enterprises was willing to give the new drug away to those that needed it, she couldn't make herself. No, instead she would be doing a feel good piece about a man who, at just a few years older than she was, was quickly becoming a world class philanthropist.

"Do you need a ride?"

Chloe's head snapped up at the sound of the blatantly male voice, her nerves jangling as she met the deep blue of Bruce Wayne's gaze. His black, old style limousine had glided to a stop just in front of her, and he was staring at her over a half-lowered window.

"Mr. Wayne."

"Can I give you a ride?" he asked again, this time with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

She had a moment's worth of indecision before she hurried to the limo. To her surprise, the man in the back seat stepped out to hold the door for her, a gallant gesture that she wasn't treated to very often. The warmth of the car seeped into her face, soothing the raw patches of October cold that had settled into her cheeks. Quietly, she began formulating questions that might expand her story.

When he settled back into his seat, Bruce Wayne turned towards her. "Where to?"

"Oh, um, 828 August Avenue," she said, giving him a business like smile.

He lifted one arched eyebrow but said nothing as he leaned forward to give the driver the information.

She knew the address was a far cry from Gotham Heights, but it wasn't exactly the East End, either. She'd settled on the gently abused apartment because of the character of the building. The old, massive brownstone had been converted into large apartments, and the moment she'd seen the tall ceilings and antique moldings she'd fallen in love. She was also afforded a half-decent view of Robinson Park, a nice treat on those rare sunny mornings in the city. Of course, she'd bet Wayne Manor had an incredible panorama of the ocean and the cliffs. And it was probably crammed with antiques and family heirlooms worth more than she'd ever earn in her lifetime.

"You…surprised me with your question."

His comment jarred her neatly back into the present at the same time it brought a genuine grin to her lips. "Well, I'll admit I wasn't prepared for your answer."

He shook his head and smiled at her, the warmth of the lifting of his mouth heating her quicker than the inside of the car had. "Wow, you must not have a very high opinion of me."

"I don't have an opinion of you at all."

"Oh, ouch!" He winced as he leaned back against the corner of the seat.

She laughed softly as she held his twinkling eyes. "Mr. Wayne, I'm a reporter; it's my job to be unbiased."

"Any woman who hits my ego with a near fatal blow can call me Bruce." He settled further in to the buttery soft cushions as he studied her. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"No, you didn't."

He gave an appreciative chuckle as he shook his head. Chloe tried not squirm as he watched her. Something about the way he was scrutinizing her made her feel hot and cold at the same time, an experience she couldn't ever remember having.

"Alright, Little Red, I'll guess you'll have to remain a mystery."

She drew her brows together in question. "Little Red?"

"Your coat, your hat…Little Red Riding Hood," he explained.

Her mouth opened before she could stop it. "And are you the Big Bad Wolf?"

She realized her mistake in that next moment. He didn't lean into her, he didn't make any sort of overt move to crowd into her space. But she could feel the heavy innuendo of unspoken words as they hung in the air. The molecules around her fairly sizzled when he lifted his eyebrow again.

"It depends who you ask, Little Red."

Chloe swallowed against her suddenly constricted throat. The man had much too much machismo, and it was spilling over to scorch her. She had to get this back to a professional level; she had to establish some sort of wall before things went too far.

"Lois, Lois Lane," she said, her voice thick.

"Ms. Lane, intrepid reporter." He stuck his large hand out. "It's nice to meet you."

She accepted his offering, sliding her palm against his. The quick fissure of electricity that shimmered through her blood was firmly dismissed. She wasn't sure where the conversation would have led, but she was more than a little relieved when the car pulled to a graceful stop in front of her building.

"Well, here we are," she announced, trying her best to sound friendly instead of overheated. "Thank you for the ride, Mr. – Bruce."

"You're welcome, Little Red – Lois."

Before she could form a response he was taking her hand in a gentle grasp, then laying a courtly kiss on her gloved knuckles. She didn't know whether to laugh at his gesture or melt into a pool with a sigh. She was saved from either when her door was quietly and efficiently opened. Hurriedly she slid from the backseat, relieved when her feet hit solid ground.

She turned to give the chauffer a grateful smile. "Thank you very much."

In a gesture borne from years of caring for her father, Chloe reached up and adjusted the regal man's collar. Giving the lapels of his coat a final pat, she turned and headed as quickly as she could into the building.

She missed the raised eyebrows of Alfred and the muffled laugh of Bruce as he watched him. She was too busy working her key into the front door lock. As she stepped into the small foyer, she had the irresistible urge to turn and watch the car drive away; she checked herself just in time. Business, she reminded herself; Bruce Wayne was a charming man, as his string of ex-girlfriends could no doubt tell her. If he'd stopped to pick her up, it was because he was sizing her up, she decided, trying to get a feel for a reporter that wasn't willing to simply fall at the feet of the great Mr. Wayne.

Determinedly pushing the memory of his warmth from her mind, Chloe huffed up to the second floor and down the hallway to her apartment. She was still busy trying to forget her ride when she closed the door behind her, automatically resetting the four locks she kept on the door as protection.

"My star reporter has been out chasing a big story."

Chloe gasped as she spun, her red hat slipping from her hair and sliding onto the wood floor. She immediately crouched into a fighting stance, ready to confront whoever had managed to break into her apartment. When the shadow on the overstuffed reading chair finally flipped on the side lamp, she let out a heavy, annoyed breath.

She glared at him with irritated eyes and propped her hands on her hips. "What are you doing here?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"I was just checking up on one of my favorite reporters," Lex said casually, unfolding himself from the chair.

He sent her a sedate smile, noting the way her flushed face made her features more appealing. Of course, Chloe always did manage to look appealing, he thought before quickly squashing the words. He had no right to think of her in that way, had no right to the images that sometimes floated into his dreams at night. Chloe was his friend, always had been, even through the darkest times in Smallville. She deserved more, so much more, than a half-empty man. There were times when he wished she would have run from him, that she would have turned her back on him as so many other people had. But she was too stubborn, too determined, to see him as a human being instead of a threat. She was sweet in that way, always willing to accept and forgive with the slightest nudge. She'd never agree with him, though; she liked to think of herself as tough and hard hearted. But he knew better.

Chloe shook her head and bent down to pick up her cap. "I haven't seen you in, what, almost a year? And don't try to use the excuse that you were too busy; I'm on your payroll, remember? I know that you own two jets, several cars, and, oh yeah, that quaint little invention called a telephone."

He stifled a chuckle, surprised all over again that this slip of a woman never truly enraged him, but only lifted his spirits. She was never scared of him, she never took a step away when his temper was up. In fact, she met him toe to toe. He found that he admired it, and that was only one of the problems.

"I've e-mailed you, Chloe –"

She tilted her head and gave him an exasperated look. "Once a month, and that was just to show off the pictures of where you'd been gallivanting."

"And I i_have_/i called a few times –"

"And left stilted little messages on my recorder." She stared at him, daring him to deny it. He wouldn't; he couldn't lie to her. "Come on, Lex, I know we're supposed to be adults now, but I really thought we'd have stayed in touch more than Clark and I do. We're more…connected than any of our other friends."

Yes, they were connected, chained together by blood and betrayal, murder and arcane curses. That link made him vulnerable to Chloe and to his attraction for her. He couldn't be around her without battling his need to be with her. And yet, there was that voice in the back of his mind, the one that sounded too much like his father. It tortured him, mocking him, telling him over and over that he wasn't good enough for her, that he would destroy her if he ever touched her. Chloe Sullivan was a woman that didn't step into relationships lightly, and she didn't tolerate men that wanted a simple fling. And he couldn't give her anything beyond that.

"What, speechless?" She let out a long breath and he felt the tension in the air ease. "I guess I shouldn't verbally pummel you too much; after all, I haven't exactly been the ideal pen pal, have I?"

And that had bothered Lex more than it should have. He hated himself every time he logged onto his computer, dmned the hammering of his heart when he waited in anticipation of a note from her.

"We've been busy," he said casually, shrugging his shoulders. "You've been working your way up the ranks, chasing leads, moving to this city to help the Gotham Gazette climb back up to its previous glory."

"And you've been traveling the world, making multi-million dollar deals, romancing the beautiful and the pampered." He watched as a reluctant smile tugged at her mouth. "You scared the hell out of me, Lex; I had no idea you were in town. You could have left a note, called my cell…you could have even come by the Gazette. You didn't have to break into my apartment to check up on me."

He watched, fascinated, as her agile fingers began to undo the buttons of her eye popping red coat. "I already stopped by the paper; they told me you were out on a late assignment, something about Wayne Enterprises."

Her movements slowed, something that for any other woman wouldn't have meant anything. But Chloe was always efficient in everything she did, even taking off her coat. As she slid the long felt material from her shoulders, she turned to give him a bewildered look.

"Yeah, they're going to start producing a medicine for diabetes…" Her voice trailed away and he waited patiently for her to continue. Chloe never left a thought dangling. "Do you know Bruce Wayne?"

Her question surprised him, sending his eyebrows up before he could stop his reaction. "I've met him a few times. It's hard to avoid a man that tends to run in the same business circles."

"But not personal circles, huh?" She gave him a sweet smile and he found himself battling down an answering grin. "He…he gave me a lift home."

"That was kind of him." He bit back the sudden desire to punch the wall.

"I suppose it was; it was…strange."

She had the oddest look on her face, one he couldn't quite describe, but one he didn't like to see in conjunction with someone else.

"He didn't pour you a glass of champagne and make lurid suggestions?" It was asked with a smirk, but even he could hear the underlying steel in his words.

"Lex Luthor, you have a dirty mind," she teased with a laugh. "No, he didn't make any sort of advances, big brother. He was just…" She shrugged her shoulders, laid her coat across the back of her blue striped couch. "I guess he was charming."

Lex felt his teeth grind together. He wondered if she could hear it across the room. Carefully taking deep, calming breaths, he tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels.

Chloe shook her head, her bobbed hair slithering across her shoulders. "Enough about me, let's talk about you…and how you managed to get into my apartment."

"It's easy when you're the landlord."

She gaped at him for a moment, then burst into a bright peel of laughter. "You…you bought my building? Why in the world would you do that?"

Because you live here, he thought; because I want to take care of you, even if only from a distance. "I thought if the indomitable Ms. Sullivan was renting here, then it had to be one h of a property…and it is. Across from the park, not far from the business district, a corner grocery story, and a low crime rate, it was too perfect to pass up."

"And so Luthor Corp. ends up with another coup." She turned on her heel and looked over her shoulder towards him, silently inviting him to follow. "How about some coffee while you catch me up on everything."

He nodded as he stopped on the other side of the kitchen, slipping out of his gray coat and laying it across the granite topped breakfast bar. He watched as she moved around the surprisingly modern kitchen, reaching up for a can of coffee beans, then proficiently pouring a healthy amount into a grinder. He couldn't stop the half-smile that spread across his lips. No instant for Chloe, not if she could help it.

"So, since I promised I wouldn't verbally castrate you for not seeing me since last Thanksgiving, why don't you tell me why you're here in Gotham. Besides checking up on your investments, of course."

Lex knew very well she hadn't made a spoken promise not to flay him with her tongue; but he'd known she wouldn't anyway. It was the silent communication that jangled his nerves, that added to his desire for her. Since he needed a moment to collect his thoughts, he steered the conversation towards the inane.

"You got my Christmas present last year?"

She turned to him, her green eyes bright as her finger poised over the button of the grinder. "It was too much, you know."

"What's a diamond between friends?"

He leaned his elbows on the counter and studied her. He noticed the pleasure that lit her gaze and the slight flush that had crept across her cheeks. She might protest, but he saw that she'd found deep, feminine delight when she'd opened the black velvet box. Not that Chloe would have ever asked for anything as expensive or extravagant as a diamond necklace; she wouldn't even have thought to put jewelry on her Christmas list. But when he'd seen the delicate piece on display, the bright solitaire hanging like a suspended star on a nearly invisible necklace of silver, he'd thought of her. The one shining spot in his dark world, the pinprick of light that had brought him out of his induced coma. The year it had taken him to completely recover from his father's final maniacal grab for personal power, Chloe had been his touchstone. Not that he'd singled her out; he couldn't have risked that. But her friendship and unshakable strength had made its mark on him. That's why he'd had to leave her as soon as he'd felt he could.

"You really shouldn't have given me the necklace," she told him, quietly breaking into his thoughts. "But I won't lie and say it didn't give me a thrill to open it."

He waited as she ground the beans, inhaling the deep, potent scent as she poured a carafe of water into the coffee maker. "Have you worn it?"

"Once to Mrs. Kent's retirement party, when she decided not to run for another term, and then again to Clark and Lois's engagement party."

As an opening, it was perfect. "How about a third try?"

She wrinkled her brow and studied him, the green depths of her eyes swirling with questions. "A third try?"

"Friday night I have a charity ball at the Wayne Botanical Gardens, and I need a date." She looked taken aback, the momentary shock snapping her eyes wide open. "Close your mouth, Chloe; you look like a cod fish."

"I'm sorry, did you just say you needed a date?"

After he nodded, she pulled open a drawer, reached inside, and pulled out a red felt pen.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Marking my calendar! My God, Lex Luthor…dateless." She shook her head with disbelief.

"Cute, Ms. Sullivan; put your marker away. What I meant was I need a date with someone who won't…expect too much," he lied smoothly. "I thought you might enjoy going with me."

"Wait, you're not going to use me as some sort of wingman, are you? Because I'm not going to play stand in to abandoned dates of gorgeous women you decide to woo."

He sent her a wry look and shook his head. "I have no intention of using this function to pick up women."

Especially not if he was with her. He couldn't imagine any other female living up to the expectations Chloe Sullivan had built inside of him. And, dmn it, he simply wanted her with him. He wanted to hear her scorching comments about the rich and idle, banter with her about arcane issues, hold her in his arms while they danced. He wanted to torture himself for a few precious hours while he tried to figure out if he'd only been imaging the feelings she seemed to elicit.

She turned away from him, effectively hiding any reaction she might have. He wished he could see her eyes so that he could have an idea of what she was thinking.

Slowly, she placed a filter into the bowl of the coffee maker and shook in the fresh grounds. He watched as she deliberately pushed the on button and stared at the machine for an endless moment. When she looked back at him, he could see the humor that illuminated her face. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"You are a piece of work, Lex. You don't see me for almost a year, but you just assume I'll go with you to this shindig."

"Actually, I was inviting you; if you don't want to go, I can certainly go alone."

She shook her head as the coffee maker began to hiss and spit. "No, no, I'd love to go, actually. I've wanted to see how the gardens look after the renovations."

He gave her a small smile, close to ashamed at the wave of relief that poured through him. He shouldn't want her, not this much, not when it made him so vulnerable…and her so dangerously close to peril. He loved to care for her, he hated to care for her. It was the paradox of his life.

Careful to keep his confused thoughts buried, he c0cked his head and pinned her with his eyes. "There's only one rule: you go as Chloe Sullivan, not Lois Lane. No nosing around, no interviewing, no scenes about someone's political views. You'll go to enjoy yourself, not to work."

She stared at him, her gaze widening in incredulity. "But…but I…" she sputtered.

"I can't believe your cousin let you use her name as a pseudonym."

Chloe straightened her shoulders defensively. "It gives me some anonymity. Besides, she doesn't care; she thinks it's funny that everyone assumes she and Clark are writing partners."

"That's neither here nor there. I want to take my…friend to this charity ball, not my employee. Think you can handle it, Ms. Sullivan?"

He knew she'd pick up the challenge the moment he tossed it out. He wasn't disappointed.

"Of course I can, Mr. Luthor. In fact, I'll be so dmn charming that you just might go into sugar shock." With a quick flick of her wrist, Chloe brought down a thick white mug and filled it to the brim. "Here, drink your coffee," she muttered as she slid the cup under his nose. "And stop gloating."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Chloe was just slipping on her strapped heels when she heard the knock on the door. Quickly standing, she took one last look in the mirror and hurried to answer. She didn't have to check the peephole to know who it was.

"Eight o'clock, prompt as ever, Lex."

She stepped aside so her friend could come inside, silently checking out his suave appearance. Even in a long black dress coat the man exuded a kind of energy that excited the senses. Some might call it intimidation; she called it power.

He turned to her, his eyes slowly traveling from the top of her gently curled hair to the toes of her copper toned shoes, and back up again. She'd been nervous about wearing the delicate concoction of deep copper; it was just a simple spaghetti strapped sheath of shimmering silk. But when she'd seen it in the window of Killinger's she hadn't been able to resist it. She'd managed to stave off her guilt about paying so much for one dress by reminding herself that she would wear it to the next five formal events she went to. That should give her a good two years to build back up her nest egg.

Now, as she watched Lex appreciate her, she knew that she'd made the right impulsive decision.

"Do I meet with your approval?" she asked with a smile.

He nodded, saying nothing as his eyes landed on her neck. "You wore it."

How three little words could sound so pleased she didn't know. But they did, and she felt herself warm.

"Well, you did say it was my third chance to wear it." She touched the diamond for a quick second, glad now that, besides the charm bracelet her father had given her, it was the only adornment she wore.

She nearly lost her breath when a full, heady smile slipped across his face. It was a rare treat to see him grin like that; and it was definitely a potent one. She'd never questioned how Lex Luthor managed to gather women around him like so many pretty flowers; and with the full wattage of his smile turned to her she could see why several had sworn undying love.

"You – you clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. Luthor." She let her gaze roam over him again, enjoying the way his presence reached out to cloak her.

"You're easily impressed," he teased as she picked up her clutch. "Wait, turn that inside out."

She gave him a quick look, one that she hoped looked appropriately appalled. "What?"

"Your purse, Ms. Sullivan. I'd like to see what's in there," he replied smoothly.

"Just my lipstick, some tissue, a comb…" He lifted his eyebrow speculatively as her voice trailed away. She knew she was caught. "Oh, alright."

With a sigh, she pulled out a small tape recorder and tossed it onto the couch. Lex crossed his arms over his chest, silently telling her he was prepared to wait all night for the rest of it. With a defeated growl, she yanked out the small notebook and pen.

"Okay, all clear, Mr. Luthor. Satisfied?"

There was a sudden gleam in his blue eyes, one that heated them like an electric flash of lightning. Before she could consider it, his gaze was back to the gently amused look she'd grown used to.

"Thank you, Chloe. Now, shall we go?"

She twisted her mouth wryly, her glossed lips slipping together as she took her coat off the couch. Before she could work her arm into the opening, Lex was behind her, carefully holding the velvet garment up for her. An odd tingle worked its way down her spine as she slipped into the coat, her body enveloped with his warmth and partially held by his arms. Swallowing against the shock, she shakily worked the single large button at her waist together.

She stood for a moment, afraid to move, but strangely yearning to turn to the man behind her. What would it be like to be pressed against him, she wondered. How would it feel to be cradled against his chest, to have his strength and his deep, masculine scent completely encompassing her? Her memories churned, bringing up the few times when he'd held her, giving her the comfort she needed at the time. But if she turned to him now, it would be for different reasons. She just wasn't completely sure what those reasons would be.

The thick silence was interrupted when he moved around her, quietly holding his elbow out. "The ball awaits, Ms. Sullivan."

Determinedly shedding her decidedly inappropriate thoughts, Chloe slid her hand into the crook of his arm and let him lead her out.

Lex couldn't remember the last time he'd actually felt proud of the woman on his arm. Chloe was standing by his side, a gorgeous, petite figure in her elegant gown. The other women here were draped in jewels, the blinding light of them garish against their over sequined dresses. But the woman he'd brought was confident enough in her beauty to know she didn't need anything to accentuate her looks. Because of that she stood out, a graceful rose among pretentious flowers.

She shifted slightly, sending her natural spicy vanilla scent wafting around him. He'd never forgotten her aroma, or how it made his gut clench and his loins tighten.

"Wow, this is amazing," she whispered in his ear. "I can't believe all the people that are here."

He pulled her slowly into the lazily moving crowd, smiling benignly as he nodded briefly to a few of his business acquaintances. "Charity events help people make connections, whether they want them or not."

She gave him a quizzical look before she sent him a lopsided smile. "I guess you have to be careful who you schmooze."

Her green eyes were twinkling, emeralds in warm sunlight, and he had an almost uncontrollable urge to lean down and lay a kiss on her upturned lips. Checking the impulse, he gave her a small smile in return. "Would you like to hide? I think there's a large display of native lilies just up ahead; you could duck behind them for a few hours."

She lifted one finely arched eyebrow and gently bumped him with her hip. "No way, Lex; if I can't play reporter tonight, then I'm going to at least enjoy watching you suffer through mundane chit chat. I think that could be highly entertaining."

Biting back a chuckle, he led her over a softly arched bridge, watching as she stared down at the water underneath them and the plants that grew in it. He could hear the gentle music of a live orchestra just ahead, the strains of the violins and cellos muffled by the trees and flowers. When they finally stepped into the far dome of the building, they were greeted by a sedate dance floor and soft lighting. Overhead, the glass reflected the glimmer of the party below, all but blocking out the natural shine of the stars and full moon. Along one side wall was a large buffet table, decorated with a scattering of bright wildflowers. Small round tables swathed in white were staggered around the room, the centerpieces of floating candles in delicate crystal bowls lending ambiance. It was obvious to Lex that this room had been created for events like this, while the other two domes and attached walkways had been built for regular use. But even here there were beautiful plants encircling the boundaries of the room, their velvety purples, reds, and blues inviting and exotic.

Chloe pulled him close again, her warm breath cascading over his ear and cheek. "Look, there's Mayor Hull and his wife talking to Commissioner Gordon. And it looks like…is that Michael Akins? I thought he was MIA after he resigned his post as commissioner and Gordon took over again."

He could feel her growing excitement and merely shook his head. You could take the reporting tools from the reporter, but you couldn't take away the innate need to know. He found he didn't want to at any rate, not when it was one of the most attractive things about her. "There are rumors that Jeremiah Arkham is trying to court him into becoming head of security for Arkham Assylum."

"God knows they could use better security," she muttered. "Who didn't they invite to this thing?"

"I'm not sure; I wasn't privy to their guest list."

She gave him an aggravated look and steered him towards the buffet. "Come on, smart a, I'm starving."

Her complete and sometimes naïve honesty was one of the things he liked the most in her. If Chloe Sullivan was hungry, she ate; if she was angry, she yelled. She simply didn't have the heart to play games, and he found it not only intriguing, but refreshing as well.

She lifted one bone white china plate and handed it to him, then carelessly lifted another for herself. He didn't say a word as she surveyed the food. A moment later she was diving into the cold shrimp and cocktail sauce.

"So, Lex, is there anyone you're trying to avoid tonight?" she asked, laying several large, sauce coated shrimp on his plate.

He looked down at his plate with a slightly wrinkled brow. "No, not in particular. Why, were you going to rescue me if I was?"

She turned to give him a dazzling smile as she slid crab puffs first onto her plate, then his. "That's me, the poor man's Batwoman."

"I thought it was Batgirl," he teased, blinking as she placed toast points with caviar beside the shrimp.

"We're in the twenty-first century, Mr. Luthor; don't be a chauvinist." She looked at the chocolate dipped strawberries, tilted her head as if deciding something, then plucked a few up. "You're not allergic to strawberries, right?"

All he could do was stare at her, a bit bewildered. "Uh, no, not that I'm aware of." She gave a satisfied nod and put three fat pieces of the fruit on his plate. "Chloe, what are you doing?"

"Huh? Oh, well, I'm making sure I have enough to eat," she said with a beguiling smile. "Taking two plates would make me look like a hog, so I figured you could stand beside me and I could pick off of yours."

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then lifted his eyebrow at the wicked gleam in her eyes. In that moment he knew her gesture was meant as a nicety, a friend being kind to a friend.

He c0cked his head and let his amusement show. "And if I'd been allergic to strawberries?"

"I would have told you to be careful."

They stood on the outside of the crowd rather than sit as they slowly ate. Or rather, as he slowly ate, Lex amended. Chloe dove into her food just like she dove into nearly everything else: with breath stealing gusto. He enjoyed listening to her unveiled comments about some of Gotham City's most prominent citizens. It was even more entertaining because what she said was the absolute truth.

He was handing her a second glass of champagne when Bruce Wayne seemed to appear from nowhere.

"Lex Luthor, I'm surprised to see you here," he said amiably.

Lex had the sudden, satisfying image of plowing a fist into the billionaire's face. Instead he sent the other man a cool look.

"I was in town, so I thought I should do my civic duty." He couldn't ignore the quick glance Bruce cast towards Chloe. "I believe you've met my date, Chloe Sullivan."

"As a matter of fact I have. Ms. Sullivan," he emphasized the last name with a slight inflection, "asked me a very interesting question the other day."

"Yes, she's full of interesting questions," Lex replied quietly. He watched the other man through narrowed eyes, carefully balancing his champagne flute.

As far as men went, he supposed Bruce Wayne was good looking. He epitomized the ever popular tall dark and handsome, but there was something else about him. Something that had an edge he was sure not many people saw.

"Do you mind if I borrow your date?" the man in question asked.

Lex shrugged negligently, determined to keep his cool façade in place. "If she doesn't mind."

Chloe shook her head and put her glass down on a nearby table. "I'll be right back."

He lifted his eyebrow as he watched the pair blend in with the other couples that swirled around the dance floor. Taking a sip of his champagne, he kept his eyes trained on them as Bruce pulled Chloe into his arms. He ignored the desire to rip her away from the other man, passing his feelings off as childish. She would be back; she'd promised she would. And if she didn't come back soon enough…well, then, he'd deal with that when the time came.

Bruce held her loosely, enjoying the way she fit in his arms. She moved with him, trusting him to lead her as they circled the dance floor. He'd been preoccupied with her for the past two days, curious about exactly who Lois Lane was. He'd been disappointed when he'd found out she was engaged to one Clark Kent, then confused when he'd pulled up an image of her. She wasn't a petite blond, but a slender brunette, and that had peaked his curiosity even more. He'd been weighing various ways to meet the reporter again, and luck had been on his side. When he'd looked up to see her standing just across the room, he'd known he had to talk to her again.

"So, Little Red, Lois Lane…Chloe Sullivan? Which is it?" he asked with a small smirk.

"It depends on the day and time," she replied with a tilt of her head.

"And do you try on names and personalities, Little Red? Are you trying to see which one sticks?"

He found himself holding his breath as he waited for her answer. He wasn't sure how he would feel about becoming involved with a woman that was afflicted with the same condition he had.

"You're the only one that calls me Little Red, Mr. Wayne, and my other names have perfectly reasonable explanations."

He waited again, then lifted his eyebrows when she simply smiled back. The little chit knew she was teasing him, and she seemed dmn proud of herself.

He leaned in closer, his gaze swimming in her faceted green eyes. "All I would have to do is make a few phone calls to get to bottom of it, you know."

"And would you do that?"

He had the feeling she was asking him as a woman, not as a reporter, and that pleased him nearly as much as the feel of her body against his. "I won't lie to you; I'm…fascinated by you. I'd rather hear the truth from you, but, yes, if I have to I'll use whatever sources I need."

She stared at him for moment before her features eased. "You certainly are honest, aren't you?"

"Is that good or bad?"

"That's a definite check in the plus column," she said with a smile. She waited a beat then replied. "Lois Lane is my i_nom de plume_/i; Chloe Sullivan is my given name."

"So, no deep, dark secrets involved? I think I'm a little disappointed," he joked.

"Hmm, and what about you, Mr. Wayne? And deep dark secrets you'd like to tell me about?"

Her look was amused curiosity, and he fought away the wild urge to look away from her probing eyes. For the first time he was sorely tempted by a woman to reveal the part of himself that he kept so cautiously hidden. It was unnerving to say the least. But then, so was the sudden desire to taste her, to run his lips along the column of her throat and savor the hollow between her neck and shoulder. He would bet she tasted like rich confection, all deep and creamy, sweet and fulfilling. His mouth began to practically salivate at the idea of it. By the quiet look on Chloe's face, he would have to say that she'd seen a glimpse of his thoughts in his eyes.

He was pulled from his rapidly heating thoughts by a solid smack on his shoulder. Bruce wrenched his gaze from the woman in his arms and found himself staring into the seemingly relaxed face of Lex Luthor.

"I'd like to reclaim my date," he said congenially.

His act didn't fool Bruce for a second. He'd lived most of his life studying the subtle body language of the people around him; it had literally saved his life on several occasions. And what he saw in the other man's face was annoyance with a good dose of anger.

Instead of pushing the matter, Bruce graciously stepped aside. "Of course. Thank you for the dance, Ms. Sullivan. It was…enlightening."

"Mr. Wayne," she said, then gave him a soft smile.

The moment Bruce moved away, Lex pulled her into his embrace, holding her closer than was necessary. He'd been patient, he thought; he'd given them over half the song to dance…to touch. In his mind that had been more than enough time.

"You couldn't find some gorgeous brunette to maul?" She linked her arms around his shoulders and grinned up at him.

"I thought we'd already established that I wasn't using the gardens as a pick up bar." He tightened his hands around her waist. "Besides, I'm already with the prettiest girl at the ball."

She lifted a dubious eyebrow and chuckled. "Wow, practicing your lines on me, Mr. Luthor? I'll warn you I'm a tougher sell than other women."

And that was yet another thing that made him want her so badly. She never gave in, not easily, and especially not after having her heart cracked because of her crush on Clark. Chloe was the kind of woman a man had to earn. He couldn't remember wanting to win anything more in his life, including freedom from his father. But because of a twist of fate and the quirks of nature, he knew that Chloe deserved better than he had to give. Still, it didn't stop the desire.

She looked up at him then, c0cking her head and sending the soft curls of her hair cascading over her shoulder. "You know, I don't think I've seen you schmooze one single person tonight. I thought I'd at least get the pleasure of seeing you squirm in your oh-so-cool way."

The word squirm brought a whole other image to his mind, one that involved her underneath him, gasping his name as he slid his palms over her bare, slick skin. He knew how passionate she was; he could well imagine how magnificent she would be when she gave herself physically. She would be hot, wild, a storm under his manipulation. He thought of how wet her mouth would be, how her scorching walls would open to welcome him, expanding, cradling his c as he slipped inside of her.

He felt himself engorge against his pants and flexed his hands against her back. He had a quick fantasy of dragging her behind a corner display of scarlet flowers, sliding his hands up her thighs, ripping her underwear away. He'd take her right there, with her back pinned against the wall as he drove in and out of her.

"Lex? Lex? Hello?" She had her brow wrinkled curiously and was staring at him with laughing eyes. "Where'd you wander off to?"

He snapped up a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry, I was distracted."

Chloe's eyebrow lifted in a move that had become familiar and cherished. "Wow, am I that boring."

Boring? If she knew exactly what was going on in his overactive mind she would probably smack him soundly across the face. "Not at all; I was just thinking about a…merger."

"A merger, huh? Well, I hope it's an important one," she teased.

"Oh, it is, Chloe. It definitely is."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"It's a damn good story!" Chloe slammed her hands down on the chief's desk and set her jaw. "You know it is, Yvonne!"

The other woman glared back just as hard, the tone of her mocha skin deepening slightly. "I never said it wasn't good, what I said was it's dangerous."

"And when has that ever stopped a paper from printing a ground breaking expose? This is good stuff, it's true, and I have a reliable source to back it up. Is this because I'm a woman?"

Yvonne's eyebrows shot up and her delicate features fell into lines of incredulity. Chloe knew she'd made an idiotic comment, but she was so stoked she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"That was monumentally –"

"Stupid, yeah, I know." Chloe gave a long sigh and tilted her head. "But Yvonne, this story has to be told. If we don't do it, no one else will. My source doesn't trust anyone else other than me. If we sit on this, and something awful happens, it'll be our fault."

"I'm a mom, too, Ms. Sullivan; I perfected the guilt trip years ago." She gave her an assessing look before letting out a deep breath. "You're going to do this with or without my permission, I know that. It's just…police corruption, ties with the mob, that's dangerous territory. These people aren't going to be very happy with you."

Sensing victory, Chloe spared a smile. "When are they ever happy with me? I'm willing to take the risk. God knows I've dealt with some crazy stuff in my time."

"This isn't just crazy, Chloe, this is…well, I don't think I have to warn you again. You're a smart girl, so use that brain when you go after this."

"So…you're giving me the go ahead?" She felt the first shivers of genuine excitement quickening inside of her.

"If you can promise me that your source is nearly infallible –"

"He is!"

"And if you promise to come with me if you receive a threat of any kind, benign or not. Oh, then there's this." She reached down, picked up a pink papered note, and handed Chloe the slip of paper. "Mr. Wayne has decided to give his first interview in two years, and he's asked for you personally."

Chloe took the note from her boss's hand, her eyebrow lifted. "He wants me to interview him? Today? At four o'clock? But that's…" she quickly checked her watch then gave her editor a panicked look. "That's in less than an hour. Why didn't someone call me? I barely have time to scrawl down a few questions."

Yvonne crossed her arms across her chest and pursed her lips in amusement. "We did try to reach you, but you were off chasing the story I hadn't given you permission to ferret out. I'm guessing you shut off your phone."

"Oh." For the second time in five minutes she felt more than a little foolish. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"I guess so."

Chloe looked at the older woman and felt like a teenager in trouble with their favorite aunt. Squaring her shoulders, she gave Yvonne a quick nod. "Well, if I'm going to interview Bruce Wayne, I guess I should go get started on some preliminary work."

Her boss didn't say a word as she hurried out of the room, closing the editor's door behind her with a soft exclamation of air. She was going to do her story. She was going to blow the lid right off of the recurring corruption in the police department. She felt the smile start from her toes and work its way up to her face, bringing a wide grin and a heady gust of pride.

She ignored the niggling of doubt at the back of her mind, the small dose of fear and uncertainty about what she was about to do. Heaven knew she'd exposed plenty of dangerous things in her life as a reporter. But this felt…different. It felt somehow more volatile. Even Marty had been uncharacteristically antsy when they'd met, greeting her with a full disguise this time instead of just a hat and sunglasses.

No, she wasn't going to be scared away. She was going to sink her teeth into this story, and then she was going to enjoy watching the guilty pay.

Bruce watched her come into his private offices through the small bank of monitors he kept hidden behind cherry oak doors. Even in black and white there was something about her that screamed for attention. It wasn't that she was obvious about her beauty; on the contrary, she didn't appear to wear layers of make up or buckets of hair spray. Instead, she was naturally pretty, beckoning a man to notice her. And he had. It was hard not to.

He'd hoped she'd wear her red coat today, and he wasn't disappointed. The color should have drained her skin, making her look sallow, but it didn't. Instead it made her look…vibrant, he decided.

He felt himself react to her, even though she wasn't in his office. He wanted to invite her in, scrap the interview, and teach her exactly how he liked to be kissed, and exactly how he liked to be touched. He could easily imagine her spread across his leather couch, her pretty green hazel eyes hazy with passion, her lips wet and swollen, and her skin flushed. If Lex Luther hadn't been hovering over her like an over protective father, he might have seen her just like that the night of the ball.

The phone on his desk buzzed, interrupting his wayward thoughts. Slowly, he closed the cabinets in front of him and turned to make his way to his desk. Slipping into his tall leather chair, he depressed the button of the intercom.

"Yes, Ms. Kensington?"

"Ms. Lois Lane is here to see you, sir."

So, she was back to that pseudonym, he thought. Probably trying to create the barrier of business. "Send her in."

He stood as the door opened, sending out a small smile as Chloe stepped into his private sanctum. He knew what she saw; it was exactly what he wanted every to see: a richly appointed room with a window of walls that overlooked Gotham. Thick beige carpeting covered the floor, plush leather furniture sat in repose, and a side bar stood like a gleaming, congenial host in the far wall. His desk had also been bought as a prop. Wide, thick, and gleaming, the oversized cherry wood desk had always served its purpose to intimidate. But he didn't see that in Chloe Sullivan's eyes. Instead he saw obvious interest.

"Thank you for coming, Ms. Sullivan."

"No, today I'm Ms. Lane, Mr. Wayne. I'm here as a reporter, remember?" She gave him a devilish look and very nearly laughed.

"And here I was thinking I'd be sitting down with my friend, Chloe," he commented softly.

"You haven't known Chloe that long," she pointed out. "One lift home and one dance does not a friendship make."

"Yet many relationships have been built on less."

She cocked her head and studied him with an appreciative gaze. "Oh, that's very good, Mr. Wayne. Cliché, but still good."

He did smile then, his lips twisting despite themselves. "I thought I'd already asked you to call me Bruce."

"Okay…Bruce," she replied, moving to stand just on the other side of the desk.

"See, it didn't hurt a bit. And I'll call you Chloe."

He thought she might protest, but she seemed to think better of it. She finally shook her head and sent him a crooked grin.

"If that's what you'd like."

His eyes lowered slightly. "Oh, it is, Chloe. Why don't you have a seat, and we'll talk."

"You mean you'll talk, and I'll ask questions and take notes."

With brisk moves, she had her coat off and gently laid across the back of the soft leather chair. He could appreciate her movements, knew that it was the inherent grace of her genes that made her so lithe. He'd spent months trying to learn to manipulate his body into grace like hers.

He watched her as she slipped into the seat, deciding not to give up the power his standing position gave him. "I'll make a deal with you, Chloe."

"Uh-oh."

Bruce quirked his eyebrow at her muttered response. "Uh-oh? What's that supposed to mean?"

She shifted her weight, carefully balancing her notebook and pen against her lap as she stared at him. "I don't like deals, Bruce, especially not when it comes to my job."

"Ah, but you're here for an exclusive; I think your editor would expect you to…be agreeable with the subject." He saw the look of tolerance on her face and knew he had her cornered. "Trust me, Chloe, it's not anything kinky…unless, of course, you like that sort of thing."

"Is that your big secret? The CEO who stashes whips and chains in his bottom drawers?"

It sounded so ridiculous he laughed, long and hard. "Nothing like that, Little Red. I keep all of that locked away safely at my house."

She lifted her eyebrow and sent him a mockingly shocked look. "Wayne Manor must be one hell of a place at night. No wonder Alfred has trouble at anyone directly. Sheer embarrassment for the poor man."

Bruce shook his head and propped his hip against the corner of his desk. "Trust me, Alfred has more secrets than I do."

"So he's the one having the wild orgies on the expensive side of town? It's always the quiet ones."

He grinned at her as he conjured up the image of the man who'd raised him in a leather outfit. "Alfred likes you," he said softly. "I believe you won him over when you fixed his collar. I think the last person to ever do that was my mother."

He watched as her expression softened into lines of sympathy. From anyone else the look would have raised his hackles; from her he took it as a true sign of understanding.

"Your parents…you must miss them."

He leaned down, capturing her gaze with his. He could see the light of kindred pain there. "You've lost your parents, too?"

"No, I still have my father; he's a wonderful man. My mother…well, after she left us, my dad really took up the reins of raising me. Trust me, it couldn't have been easy." She gave a quick, slightly tense laugh. "But we're not here to talk about me, we're here to discuss the elusive Bruce Wayne."

He could have pushed his advantage, but that would have only alienated her, creating a rift he didn't want to cause. He would take it slow, give her time to get used to having him around, and carefully carve out information about her as they went along. For now, he'd let her know exactly what kind of person he was up front. Then she'd have the chance to run like hell in the other direction of she chose to.

"You're absolutely right," he said, pushing himself up and moving towards his chair. "I did promise you an interview, didn't I? So, Chloe, what would you like to know first?"

Lex balanced the large paper bag in one hand and knocked on the door with the other. He should have called, he thought again; he should have warned her he was coming. He should have made sure she was by herself. He should have made sure she wasn't out on a date with Mr. Bruce Wayne. It was bad enough when he'd found out from Yvonne that the billionaire had called to personally ask for Chloe to do his interview. He'd been battling images of the two of them together, laughing, smiling, sharing secrets and growing closer. He didn't even want to re-imagine the quick picture he'd had of them actually touching.

Grinding his teeth, he forced his animosity down and schooled his features carefully. He hated that he was questioning himself, that Chloe had brought him down to this level of uncertainty. But then, if any woman was ever going make him second guess his actions, it would only be Chloe Sullivan. He shifted his weight in agitation and lifted his fist to knock again. He was relieved when he finally heard the scraping of her locks.

A moment later her freshly scrubbed face was framed in the doorway. "Why, Lex Luthor, my landlord; what a surprise that the super sent you up to fix my clogged sink."

He lifted his eyebrow in question and tried not to stare down at the ratty robe that encased her. "Clogged sink?"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, a clogged sink, something us mere mortals have to deal with on our own."

"If you need a plumber, I could call –"

"Oh, Lex, I'm only kidding." She moved aside and motioned with her hand before she continued, her voice tinged with laughter. "Come on in, Mr. Boss Man. I promise, nothing's going to explode or gurgle."

He wasn't sure what to make of her mood, but decided to enjoy it while he could. Stepping inside, he saw that her laptop was sitting open on the coffee table and pile of cushions had been spread on the floor.

"I'm sorry, you're working," he said, holding back a cringe at the thin sound of his voice.

"Yes, I was, but please interrupt me. I think I'm going cross eyed and over editing myself." She sighed as she relocked her door, her bare feet sliding soundlessly against the floor. "So, is that incriminating evidence you need me to stash?"

He wrinkled his brow in question before he finally realized she was talking about the sack in his hand. Frustrated over his brain's sluggish function, he held up the bag and sent her a small smile.

"Dinner," he said, "Chinese."

"Your date didn't show and you thought of me?" she asked with a smirk and lifted eyebrows.

He couldn't stop the grin that moved up his mouth. "Something like that. I believe Clark said something about shrimp lo mien being your favorite?"

"You sure do know a way to a woman's heart, Mr. Luthor."

He ignored the skipped beat of his own heart and swallowed a leap of desire as she hurried over to grab the food from him. Her vanilla scent traveled around him, floating on the air and taunting him as she scooted by. He turned to watch her, nearly mesmerized as she sat the sack down on the kitchen counter and started rummaging through it.

"How did you know I was starving?" she asked, her nose still in the bag.

"Wild guess," he replied, finally stepping up to stand across from her. "Yvonne told me you were working on a major story, and I remember how you forget to eat sometimes."

She looked up, her eyes shining as she cocked her head. "My hero."

He didn't quite smile, instead holding back the urge to reach out and take her lifted lips with his. The urge to touch her, to taste her, was becoming almost too overwhelming to control. And yet he couldn't make himself leave her. The thought of climbing on his plane and flying away from her was more painful than the idea of staying near her.

He wished he could confess that to Chloe, but he knew he couldn't. It would ruin their friendship, and his tangled feelings had the potential to destroy her life. Instead of telling her his secret, he fell back on his sarcasm. That, he knew, she would appreciate.

"I bring you dinner and I'm your hero? You're easily impressed, Ms. Sullivan. What would I be if I'd brought you chocolate from Switzerland?"

"I would worship you," she teased, then turned to pull out the chopsticks.

He felt himself harden to near steel. His mind was already creating images of Chloe worshiping him, in all the right and erotic ways. With her lithe hands, with her warm mouth, and finally with her luscious body. And he'd be a slave to her, completely at her mercy, gladly giving up his power to her.

"Margaritas?"

Her one word question snapped him back abruptly. His eyes fell on her cleavage, the gentle rise of her obviously unbound breasts swelling against the shabby blue terrycloth. He bit back a moan just in time.

"Um, no, no alcohol," he managed, shocked that his words were actually steady. "I'm driving." And if I get too relaxed, I'll probably try to seduce you on the living room floor, he thought.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Soda it is."

He waited until she'd turned her back to let out a deep breath. What had started as a simple idea for an hour with Chloe was turning into brutal, heavenly, torture. When she reached up for glasses he picked up the small containers of food and the chopsticks and spun on his heel. He stared around the apartment for a moment, trying to clear his mind as he searched for the kitchen table. He finally found it, unceremoniously placed in the center of what looked to be a graciously spaced breakfast nook with a view of the city. There didn't seem to be a clean space on the oval surface; instead, it was covered with books and paper, obviously research material that Chloe used and never bothered to put away.

"Oh, I eat over there," she said, pointing towards the coffee table. "There's never any room on the actual dining room table."

"Did you ever consider cleaning it off?" he asked dryly.

"Why? I'd just pull the same books down to use them five minutes later. Oh, don't worry Mr. Landlord; I promise it's not a fire hazard."

He shook his head as she came around him, carrying their drinks in her hands. He followed, careful to keep his eyes trained on her shoulder and not the gentle sway of her hips. Her very nice hips. The hips that led to a nicely rounded bottom and shapely legs –

"So, why did you really come over tonight, Lex?"

Her point blank question held more of an innuendo than she knew. As nonchalantly as he could, he placed the food containers on the squat, gently worn coffee table and turned to her.

"I told you, I talked to Yvonne."

"And she told you all about my new story." Chloe let out a plaintive sigh and sank down to the cushions strewn in front of the couch. "Please don't tell me you're going to try to talk me out of doing it."

He lifted his eyebrow and slowly sat down beside her. This was certainly a new development. He had no idea what she was talking about, but obviously there was more involved to this story than her others.

He let his eyes roam her tired face for a moment. "Would you stop if I asked you to?"

"Please don't ask me," she said softly, her head falling forward so that her chin rested on her chest. "I know it's going to be hard, and I know it's not going to be easy, but you can't ask me to walk away from it now. It's just too important."

"How important is it, Chloe?" he questioned gently.

"More important than I think anyone realizes. The things my contact has told me, the things he's shown me…it runs deep, Lex. Really, really deep. So deep, that I doubt Commissioner Gordon realizes it's there." She looked up suddenly, her usually mottled green eyes swimming towards golden brown with troubled worry. "Look, I know this could be…risky, but somebody has to step up and take that chance."

Well, hell, now he wished he'd questioned Yvonne more extensively than he had. As it was, he'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of Chloe that he hadn't really heard the chief editor's rundown of recent stories and what was in the works. He'd been too intent on making plans for seeing Chloe. But whatever it was she was working on, the woman beside him obviously wasn't going to let it drop, no matter what the argument might be or who might ask her to let it go. When she got her teeth into something big, she held onto it like a rabid Doberman Pincher, he knew that from past experience. If he pushed her to stop, she would pretend to, but he knew that she'd still work on it in her own time, and he'd be locked out of whatever it was she was doing. He couldn't take that risk. It would be better to let the subject lie for now, to let her go on with whatever it was she was pursuing, and keep careful tabs on her as she worked. Silently he resolved to put one of his own security detail on her as a tail, just to make sure she was kept safe.

In a tender gesture that was much too telling, Lex moved Chloe's hair from her cheek and carefully tucked it behind her ear. "Alright, I won't ask you not to do this. Just promise me you'll be careful, and if you need anything, or think that something might be wrong –"

"I'll tell you," she promised quietly. "I swear, Lex, I'll be careful, and you won't regret this."

When the smile returned to her face full force, he felt his fear for her rise a notch. This was beyond her run-ins with Bruce Wayne. This was way past any lingering feelings she might have for Clark Kent. Something in his gut told him that what she was working on was more volatile than even she knew. Even as she dug into her lo mien he found himself regretting not forcing her hand.


End file.
